A sad and silent song
by ThaisaHarper
Summary: Just going to get my feet wet, until I drown" When treachery leaves Ginny heartsick, can a distant admirer reach her in time? One-shot. Rated T for suicide attempt.


Disclaimer: None of these character belong to me. I borrowed them for my plot.

AN: My first one-shot. I needed to take my mind off the slow going struggle of trying to finish my other story. Please review and tell me what you think. I can handle criticism very well, and reviews make me happy.

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Two small pale hands pushed against the large oak door, opening it just enough for the petite redhead to slip out, before closing behind her with a thud. The grounds were empty, although that was hardly a surprise. It had not stopped raining for the past two days. It was cold and the wind ripped through the trees, making them thrash about as though they were being crucioed.

The young woman didn't appear to mind the weather; her eyes were focused resolutely on the swelling lake. Taking the hems of her robe into her fist, she hurtled towards the water, ignoring the raging winds of Typhoeus. She stopped at the waters' edge staring into the black mere, shivering. The cold, finally cutting through her thick cloak, made her mission miserable, but she couldn't help but feel thankful for the cover it provided. Anyone with sense would be inside by a fire now.

She stepped into the icy water, as though pulled by some unseen force. The waves cut into her legs and she cried out. It hurt now, but it was worth it to end it all now. Up to her waist, she could feel herself reaching the point of no return. The undertow was pulling her along now, and her heart went cold with the finality of her actions.

She didn't see him perched in a window high above her. She wouldn't have been able to tell what he was doing, even if she were to turn around and look at him. She wouldn't have known who it was, and even if she had recognized his signature white-blonde hair so far away, she would have never thought that he'd risk anything to keep her from doing what she came out here to do.

The wind knocked her hood off, but it didn't matter. She was nearly frozen now; her lips blue, her body numb. But from his perch high above, he saw a flash of red as she lost her footing and he jumped. The wind battered him about like a plaything as he tried to gain control of his broom. Speeding towards the lake, he caught sight of her bobbing in the distance. Self-preservation had kicked in too late, and the little strength she had was rapidly waning as she struggled to stay afloat. The weight of her heavy cloak was pulling her down, and not a second too soon, a hand reached for hers from above.

She could barely tell what was going on, and he didn't have the strength enough to lift her in her water-laden robes. Instead he pulled her towards the shore, using every bit of energy he had to keep her head above the water. An eternity to him, a second to her, they were lying on the cold shore. She was uncomfortably still, but he could do nothing more for her until he caught his own breathe. Once he had recovered, he crawled over to her, and checked her pulse. Her heart was beating, although without vigor. They had to get inside.

There was no use trying to wake her; he'd have to carry her. First he stripped off the wet cloak and her robes, down to a thin slip. The cold wet clothes would only slow him down, and make her more ill than she'd be already. With the unconscious girl in his arms, he trudged back to the castle, leaving her discarded clothes and his broom behind.

Once inside the question was where to take her. The Hospital Wing was the obvious answer, but Madam Pomfrey would have questions, and the story would get out. He wouldn't do that to her.

He turned instead down the hall that led to his private suite. Being the Head Boy had its perks and today, he was more thankful than ever for it. Granger wasn't there when he arrived and again he was thankful. He dropped the wet girl on the settee and, pulling out his wand, he lit a fire. With another wave, she was dried off and he began wrapping her in blankets. Sufficiently satisfied that she'd be able to warm up now, he dropped to the floor next to her and ran a finger down her bloodless cheek.

She awoke to pain and fever and moaned. Why was she alive? The last thing she remember, she was being dragged about by the mounting waves… And then there was a hand and everything went hazy. She had thought that was the end, but someone clearly had other plans for her.

He awoke to noises coming from the couch beside him. She was awake! He jumped up, and leaned over her checking her temperature and pulse. "I won't give you anything for the pain. You deserve it, you know. What were you thinking?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but her throat protested and allowed nothing to pass except a weak gasp. Now more than ever, she wished that she were dead. To her surprise, he smiled, and not his usual haughty smirk, and he leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'm not going to let you go now."

Later that day, he was sitting on the couch, stroking her fiery hair, when the door swung open, and a bushy haired brunette carrying a stack of book taller than her staggered in. With only a brief glance at the scene before her, the books came tumbling down, and with a gaping mouth, she stared from the pallid girl on the couch to the young man leaning over her.

"Malfoy! What did you do?" She screeched, running over to the young girl's side. She pushed him away and began checking her vitals. "What is she doing here? She needs to be in the hospital wing."

Draco glared, his grey eyes narrowing angrily for the first time since he pulled the redhead from the water. "And tell them what? That she decided to go for a swim?"

Hermione gasped. "Why didn't you come get me?"

"And leave her?" He shook his head and scoffed. "Also, I didn't want you dragging those two cretins with you."

"You mean her brother and her boyfriend?"

"Yeah those two."

"He's not my…" Ginny rasped.

Draco leaned down, and ran a finger across her cheek. "Shh… You just rest and we'll all sit down and talk when you're better."

The next morning, Ginny wasn't feeling much better. Her throat didn't feel like sandpaper anymore, but she was still weak and feverish. Hermione had spent the entire night working on a potion for her, so that they wouldn't have to go to Madam Pomfrey, but it wasn't finished yet. Draco had stayed up, keeping the fire going and watching over his patient. Now she motioned for him to come close and she pulled herself up, making room for him to sit down. Then she collapsed back down into his arms and closed her eyes.

While the potion brewed, Hermione scuttled around the room, checking her watch every few minutes, mumbling to herself. Finally a knock at the door pulled her back into reality, and she ran over and opened it. A tall lanky redhead pushed past her, followed by a shorter boy with messy black hair. "Where is she?" The first demanded, and then stopped short seeing his sister in the arms of his archenemy. "What is going on?"

"Get away from my girlfriend."

At that, Ginny moved. She used Draco's legs to push herself up, and she weakly hissed, "You're not my boyfriend." Running out of strength, she fell back into Draco's waiting arms. Looking up at him with salty tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, she whispered again, "He's not my boyfriend."

"What have you done to her, Malfoy?" Ron asked, his face turning a vivid shade of crimson, making his ginger hair pale in comparison.

Ginny closed her eyes and turned her head into Draco's chest, sighing contently. He pulled her tight, only making the two young men in front of him seethe even more noticeably.

"She's delirious with fever." Harry said, grabbing her hand and trying to pull her away from Draco. She struggled against him and nuzzled closer into Draco's arms. The blonde ripped the unwelcome hands from the weak girl and gave him a bone-chilling look of warning.

Hermione jumped up and checked her watch. "Potion should be done." She announced happily. Draco considered following her to berate her for allowing those asses in to harass Ginny, but decided against leaving the younger girl alone with the goons.

A moment later, Hermione was back with a little glass vial. "Drink up, Ginny, and you'll be as good as new."

Harry nodded enthusiastically; "Yes, and then we'll go back to the common room and forget this ever happened."

Ginny scowled, but drank the potion anyway. At first it seemed like nothing happened, but then she could feel the blood rushing through her limbs and her temperature dropping back to normal. Her strength was returning slowly and she felt healthy overall. But with her returning health came the memory of how she had ended up here in the first place, and why. Sitting up, she vacillated between the desire to cry and the need to hex something.

And then she saw. His hand reaching for hers, and that look on his face as though she had just tripped on the stairs, not thrown herself into a raging body of water. To her side, she saw another, looking concerned and slightly defeated. She realized as she sat up, she had pulled away from him, and leaned towards Harry. Return to what had driven her to the edge, or start a whole new scary trip.

Behind her eyes, she saw everything so clearly: his hands in her hair, her lips on his chest, her own hands weak and useless as she stood watching, tears and then water clouding her vision, a hand clutching her own.

She didn't move except to take Draco's hand in her own. She didn't know what he was there for, but she knew whatever Draco was offering was better than what Harry took from her. "Don't look so hurt Harry. You've still got your whore." She growled, and leaned back into supporting arms.

He had dragged her into his room, to talk, but she wasn't interested. Instead, she admired his bed, his desk, and his view of the lake. She could see the black spot on the edge that must have been her missing clothes. From up here, it looked like a far off picture. That he flew down to save her, lowly her, was amazing. He grabbed her and turned her around to face him. "Why?"

There was the question that she had been asking herself ever since she took her first step into the water. She didn't know how Harry had come to mean so much to her, or what snapped when she saw him with another girl. She took Draco's hands in her own and shook her head.

"Why'd you save me?"

Their lips crashed into each other, and the images behind her eyes faded.


End file.
